I tried to ascertain where the little one lived but never could get at it from either of the girls. I wanted Molly alone, and to save the expense as well, for I had to pay double for the room, and to pay both Betsy and Molly. That the girl went home with Bet, and that she had a mother, I learnt from scraps of conversation, especially when the flap-cunted one had had her full share of wine, yet the home was kept secret and Bet, when questioned at length said, “you'd better not bother yourself — or you'll get perhaps into more trouble than you'll like.” — So I ceased enquiring.

Nearly a month had passed away, when Bet said the girl was going back to her mother. “She must stop at home three days, and then I'll get her out again, but she must go home early.” That I agreed to. At the house on a night arranged, the mistress told me that Betsy had called to say she should see me soon, but not that night, nor did she meet me afterwards, and some months rolled by, before I met Betsy again. She was then looking very poor and unwell. — We turned an accommodation house, and then she told me all that had occurred.

The girl was the daughter of a laundress, a friend of Betsy's, and she was allowed to be much with her, tho the mother knew how Betsy got her living. The girl was growing, had had her courses, and wanted fucking. — “Fucked by someone I knew she would be soon. — Some ragged-arsed coster perhaps. She'd been felt by youths, and had felt them, and as you wanted a fresh one, I thought I might as well have a few pounds for the virginity, as let it go for nothing” — So she led the girl up to it. It was easy enough, the little one nothing loath, was longing to have a prick up her, and get a silk dress, but Betty scarcely knew how to get her away. Just then the mother got drunk, assaulted a policeman, was abusive, and was quickly sent to quod for a month. — Betsy said the girl should stay with her, till she was out of prison, and so she did, and she was then brought to taste my prick.

After the last time I had Molly, the mother came home, and soon told Bet her daughter had been ruined, and that Bet was at the bottom of the business. She denied it — and Molly denied it, but it ended in a row. The mother got again drunk and assaulted Betsy. The whole neighbourhood got to know and was up in arms. Betsy was obliged to leave her lodgings and at last to leave the neighbourhood. — She was afraid even to take to her old Strand walk, because of the mother. Since then, Molly and her mother had gone she knew not where.

Betty's belief was that it was owing to a Priest, for Molly had sworn she had never told her mother. When a doctor to whom she took the girl, had examined her cunt, he said that if a man had not been up her, she had put something up as big as a man. Molly still resolutely denied knowing anything about the matter, or that her cunt was any larger than it always had been, and said that she had put things up it. They were Roman Catholics. The mother took Molly to confess. The girl would not tell Betsy anything she had told the Priest, saying that she should go to hell if she did tell — and declared in ambiguous terms that the Priest had never asked her that — but only what he had asked her other times before — and she had taken care not to say too much. For all that, Betsy declared that from what the mother had let out that the Priest must have cautioned her, against letting her having anything more to say or do with Betsy. It seems that whilst Molly had been living with Bet, the two had talked a great deal about Priests, and what women told those holy men when confessing — and Betsy declared that tho the Priest might not have said the actual thing, he had said enough to the mother, to put her on the scent and make her do what she did.

I fucked Betsy that night but never afterwards, and gave her what I could to compensate her for her trouble and loss, for it seemed a probable story. I soon afterwards lost sight of her, and Molly I have never seen since.

The episode lasted about four weeks, and I had plenty of amusement during the time. — I was delighted with the little one. I could gaze for half an hour at a time at the little delicate pink slit, its jagged rupture, its little hairless lips: and then look at Betsy's well-haired cunt, as she laid by the side of her. When the little one's cunt was fresh washed I would tickle the little clitoris with my tongue till she closed her thighs on me — or pushed my head away, but I never made her spend that way, nor thought of doing so, nor desired it. — It was simply instinctive, lascivious play which pleased us both — and delighted Betsy to witness.

In arranging these later portions of manuscript, I came upon a narrative of copulation in a bath, which I had with this big-eyed Betsy — I knew that I had written it, and at one time looked for it fruitlessly, then forgot it, and only thought about it again, when in arranging the loose leaves telling of my secret life at about this date, it suddenly turned up. It must there-fore be kept in place here, altho what occurred took place certainly ten years earlier. — It was the only time I ever fucked a woman under water.

I have since tried to stroke a woman in a bath in the southwest of Europe, and failed, but fucked her directly we left the bath (in which I let as much water play-fully up her cunt as I could) on a sofa in the dressing room. — It was at about 10 o'clock a.m. She was a lovely-formed, dark-eyed, dark-haired creature, a ballet girl, and an Italian about twenty years old, and for now my amusements were far wider in range, obscenity, and eccentricity) I made her piss over me from the edge of the bath, and I pissed against her cunt, before our ablution. This was to her great amusement — and during all breakfast time afterwards, she did nothing but talk about it, for it was her first essay in such class of erotic diversion. — After breakfast, we adjourned again to the bath, under pretence of taking one, and I fucked her twice in the dressing room and the I went back by myself to P***h.

One night, Betty and I talked about the bath which we took together years previously, for it was she who told me of the bathing place. It is strange to me that I have never written full narrative before, for I made the notes at the time, as I well recollect. And now to the narrative.

One day when I had her on my first acquaintance with her, the subject turned on baths, and she asked if I had ever had a woman in a bath. “It takes a good man to fuck under water,” said she. Then she told me where I could try, and I met her there soon after.

In J***s St., not far from my favourite baudy house, was a small building on the outside window of which in largish letters was written “Baths.” There were there indeed baths for gentlemen, yet I expect the paying business was the double bath to which the initiated only had access. — Betsy told me not to go in with her, for men and women never went in together, but to wait a few minutes, as she had to see if a bath was ready, and let the keeper know who to expect. I did as told, and was soon in a comfortable little room where Betsy was awaiting me.

Against the wall was a bath like any other bath, but large enough for two. Hot and cold water could be turned on at pleasure. There were several different sized, but large flat cushions covered with soft leather, or something smooth, intended to be placed at will in the bath, for bum, back, knees, or head. We soon stripped, and filled the bath to a height just enough to cover our bodies, and then got into it together. Having heard from Betsy of the difficulty, I had kept my-self from fucking for a few days, and now had a rigid prick, and plenty of sperm in my testicles.

Laying by her side I began to feel her cunt. She told me the more I let the water up, the greater difficulty I might have in fucking her. I soon began the work, and to my annoyance could not get my prick up her comfortably. Her cunt felt sloppy, yet dry to my tip, and my prick did not seem so stiff as it had been a minute or two before. She laughed. Then I arranged the cushions differently, so that her cunt might be higher up, for me to get at it more readily. Then I had to let water out, and then in, because it either covered her too much, or me too little. Then her head was too low and so on. But at length all being carefully adjusted after much time and trouble, again I mounted her under the water, and got my prick into her cunt. Then the motion of my arse and belly, and her wriggling up to me, sent the water up in waves, slopping all over her face, and directly afterwards, one of the pillows slipped away from under us, her head sank down clean under the water, my face went under the water filling my nose, out slipped my prick, and we both got up drip-ping, she annoyed because she didn't want her hair wetted, I annoyed because I hadn't finished my fuck. Indeed I had scarcely began it, yet now found my prick quite limp.